Despite my various rants about bad drivers and Presidential candidates, I’m really not that crabby of a person. In fact, I think this blog surprises the folks who know me. You see, I’m a pretty quiet dude. I don’t talk much unless I know someone pretty well, and even then I’ll hold back on some things depending on the situation or topic. Perhaps, in the end, that’s what all of this writing is for: a way to release things that get pent up inside me. As I said early on, there is catharsis in this for me.
[The screen is my canvas, the keyboard is my brush, and my diabolical wit is my paint.]
Today’s menu contains pablum along the lines of previous rants, but that doesn’t mean the topic is any less irritating to me than weightier issues. That being said, if nonsense isn’t your thing, feel free to duck out. It’s not like we’ll be solving world hunger on this one.
Ready? Here we go.
I work almost two hours away from my home. When I go to the office I try to bring my own lunch for a variety of reasons – it cuts down on cost, it saves me from having to leave the office when I’m generally too busy to do so, and it forces me to make good choices with my food intake. But, some nights we’re too tired by the time things wind down, so neither my wife nor I undertake the process of not only making my lunch, but preparing six lunches for the kids who go to school the next day. When that happens, I’m stuck going out to grab some grub.
This past Monday I drove to Chipotle to get a burrito bowl (white rice, black beans, chicken, cheese, lettuce, and verde, please). Anyone who goes to fast-food places, especially ones with cafeteria-style food creation, knows that there will be a line to funnel through during the 12-1PM lunch rush. That’s fine. I totally get that. On this day, there were probably 20-25 people in front of me, but Chipotle is a well-oiled machine, so normally it would only take a few minutes before I’m placing my order and on my way to a table to consume my gut-bomb.
[Chipotle: where eating as many calories as a third-world village is not only acceptable, it’s encouraged.]
Only this isn’t a normal day. And, really, fast food in a metropolitan area is never normal because you always, *always* have the people who are ordering for their entire fucking office pool of coworkers. You don’t usually see this shit at burger places; it seems to be joints like Subway and Chipotle where these folks come out, and it never ceases to piss me off.
Those 20-25 people in front of me might actually account for 75-100 burritos. On this day, the dick in front of me ordered nine, count ‘em, NINE burrito meals, all of which are different with the myriad options available.
“That one has white rice, but it needs to be extra rice. Then a 50-50 mixture of black and pinto beans. Chicken is fine, but on the salsa I need corn *and* verde *and* the hot stuff. Cheese, lettuce, sour cream, um….guacamole, maybe? Just a sec, my phone locked. Come on, come on, my password isn’t working. There, OK. Which one was this one again? The chicken or the carnitas? Chicken? OK, um, no guac. OK, that one’s done. Next…”
By the time jackass gets through nine of those, I’ve reached the end of my rope.
[“Oh, that asshole in front of me used up all of the meat? Just scrape some of my gray matter from the walls and use that instead.”]
Now, I’m not much smarter than the average bear. Truly, I’m not. This is probably why it astounds me that people do this shit when there are options to handle orders of this nature. Most restaurants have ordering apps that allow people to enter as many sandwiches/pizzas/burritos as they want, giving the restaurant an opportunity to make the food prior to the customer arriving. More importantly, it keeps the restaurant’s front-line staff and counter free to handle the customers who are there to order food quickly and get the fuck out of the way for the next person.
If other customers are anything like me, they have a limited amount of time to get food, eat, and be on their way. On my best day I would have roughly 30 minutes to eat at a restaurant or in my car, having spent the rest of my hour-long break getting my car out of my workplace’s lot, driving to the restaurant, placing my order, and then accounting for the ride back and finding a new parking spot. Most days I don’t even have that much time, instead going somewhere to get food and bringing it back to my desk so I can eat while I work. The LAST thing I want to do on those days is learn the eating habits of Bob, Natalie, Chris, Laura, Malcolm, Beatrice, William, James, and Gertrude from the office building next door. And I shouldn’t have to, if people would have an iota of respect for the other customers trying to order their food.
[Novel fucking idea, eh? Use it next time, Poindexter.]
Phew! One thousand words on the Chipotle ordering process. Who knew? Now I have a word-count goal to surpass when I rant about the two-lane McDonald’s drive-thru in a future post.
Until we meet again…